


From First to Last Hypothetical

by flickerthenflare



Category: Hollywood (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickerthenflare/pseuds/flickerthenflare
Summary: Camille comes to realize how much Raymond means it when he says he hopes to marry her someday.
Relationships: Archie Coleman/Rock Hudson, Raymond Ainsley/Camille Washington
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	From First to Last Hypothetical

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up that there’s a lot of discussion of racism in the 1940s in this, and homophobia as well.

Camille’s phone rings shortly after she gets home from her acting classes and she’s preparing for a long bath to unwind. She’s not expecting a call but picks up after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“I miss you already.”

She smiles at Raymond’s voice. “I’m not coming over at this time of night.”

“I’m not asking you to.” His attempt at nonchalance is betrayed by sounding just as affectionate as she feels.

“You’re not coming over either,” she adds. One of them has to be reasonable, and she doesn’t expect it to be him. She just doesn’t want it to be her either. Which explains their whole romance, really. They both fell fast and hard and now here they are, on the phone with each other after working at the same place all day because for once they don’t have plans to be together at night.

“It’s just… you left your robe,” Raymond says.

Camille’s second-best robe hangs on a hook in the bathroom. She knew where it was when she left her best one behind weeks ago. “I’ll manage without it.”

“And there’s a tube of lipstick here that you might miss.”

“That’s all you expect me to miss though?”

“Of course. I’m not asking for myself. Just inquiring after your needs for your robe. And your lipstick. And your now-clean laundry.”

Camille laughs. They’ve left for Ace Studios in a rush a number of mornings and her clothes from the night before stayed behind with the intention of packing them up to bring home another time. “You did not have my laundry done.”

“I certainly did! You have a drawer and a section of my closet now. Both look lovely; you should see for yourself.”

Camille’s attempt to be reasonable doesn’t apply to future plans. If she and Raymond spend the following evening together, she can show off her accent work; he can read the best and worst passages of scripts aloud for her amusement. They don’t need to have plans beyond that. As tonight proves, they just want to be together.

“Pick me up in the morning and take me home with you at night?” Camille asks, and she knows he’s going to say yes.

* * *

The next morning, Camille is perched on her packed bag when Raymond pulls up to drive them both to work.

“How long may I convince you to stay this time?” Raymond asks. He takes the bag in one hand and her arm in the other.

“I’m open to being convinced.”

“I, um… okay.” Rather than flirt like Camille expects, Raymond goes quiet. They’re so comfortable now, settled into their relationship, that she forgets she can still make him nervous. Camille lets the silence between them hold while Raymond works up to what he’s going to say next. “Make it permanent, then? Please? Would you stay as long as you want?”

“That’s what has you nervous?” Even if she were to say no to living together – oh god, she’s not going to, she just now realizes – they’d be fine. They like each other in their lives, one way or another. A “no” to this wouldn’t be the end of them.

Raymond sneaks a glance away from the road. “Well, I know we haven’t talked about marriage yet.”

Camille gives a double take. “Were we going to?”

“Is this okay? Do you want it to be a surprise when I ask?”

“I’m already surprised.” That’s not the same conversation at all. If propriety were going to stop them, it would have long before. She hasn’t done a thing in their relationship with the expectation of eventual marriage to provide justification.

“It’s too soon, I know.” Raymond’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and won’t hazard another look her way. “I won’t bring it up again if you don’t want it mentioned until we’re ready. But I want us to call the same place home everyday. I want us to have a whole life together. And later, hypothetically, if you’d like….”

He’s either naïve or willfully ignoring their biggest obstacle. “How are we going to get married?”

“I have some thoughts. Does this mean we can talk about it before I ask?”

Willfully ignorant it is. It sounds like a nice place to be. One of the joys of dating someone else in show business is the tendency to playing pretend in their off time. Sometimes a shared daydream is exactly what she needs.

“Tell me about it,” Camille says, letting the constraints of reality go for a moment. “Hypothetically.”

“Okay. So. I’m thinking we run away to New Mexico together. And then come back because our jobs and lives are here. Alternatively, we head to Washington, but I’d rather have the New Mexican weather unless it’s summer. But it’s your wedding too – if your heart is set on Washington, then I will be appropriately excited for Washington in whatever season where we can be gone long enough for the trip.”

“Oh. You’re serious.” That’s not a daydream; that’s a legitimate _plan._

“Hypothetically, for when it’s not way too soon. There’s a map in the glove compartment. I mean, the map is _literally_ there, but…”

Camille looks at the names of towns in New Mexico she’s never been to. She traces a line from Los Angeles to Phoenix to Tuscan to Las Cruces. It’ll take at least a day to drive and another to drive back. Realistically more, and they’ll need to reach City Hall on a weekday. The return road trip can be the honeymoon.

Raymond’s right that it’s too soon. It’s not a realistic choice for them to make right now. She shouldn’t be so distracted by what might be if they stay on this highway and keep going across state lines.

Maybe someday. It’s certainly a thought she knows she’ll come back to when driving like this on a Los Angeles highway dotted with palm trees that look so different from where she grew up. She can daydream about where else they could go.

* * *

Camille and Raymond host a dinner party at their place after _Meg_ ’s premiere when their lives settle down. They invite their new friends who are increasingly becoming like family. It’s not fancy like a George Cukor party, but Archie and Rock come with a covered dish, Jack offers flowers for the table, and Claire brings wine that Raymond pours. He kisses Camille’s cheek as he hands over hers. They spare a moment to exchange besotted looks. It’s moments like these – relaxing in their home, surrounded by people they love – that remind Camille how much she loves the life they’ve made together.

“Okay, you two, don’t forget you have guests,” Claire teases. “Unless this is a hint for us to leave you alone already?”

“All this time together and you’re still like this. You’re more married than any actually married couple I know,” Jack says from by her side.

“Wait, aren’t you?” Rock asks.

The room’s occupants fall silent. Claire looks like she’s close to forming words before thinking better of it. Archie winces and subtly shakes his head at Rock. Raymond is the first to speak, although all he manages is a, “…No?”

If Henry were here, this is where he would say something cutting about Rock not knowing what he should. But Henry’s not invited to nights like this.

“Oh. Huh. Seemed like you were already. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry?”

“We need to be in a state that won’t fight us for a license first,” Camille explains. They still talk about it sometimes, about how one day they hope to get married. There hasn’t been time to travel with everything else going on. It’s hard to picture a wedding in a place she’s never been.

“But you said you’re half-Filipino,” Jack says to Raymond. “Just say you’re ‘Malay’ when you go to City Hall. They won’t care then.”

“I definitely put down ‘white’ when I got the mortgage for the house,” Raymond jokes around the rim of his glass of wine. He drains it. For once, he’s not optimistically chirping about what they can do to change the world.

“I’ve heard of it happening: trying to pass in the other direction to get a license,” Archie says. “There’s a success rate higher than zero.”

“It’ll be decided by the clerk, who will say I’m white. I can prove I’m half-Filipino, but not without bringing my parents and everyone else like me into it. I’m not looking to relive when their marriage was voided the first time around for the sake of mine. It turns out arguing vague, racist laws don’t apply to you is a good way to get expressly added to them.”

“Wait, what?” Rock looks aghast. “They what?”

“Seriously, Rock, where have you been for the last couple decades?” Claire goggles right back at him. She seems to realize that’s unkind a beat later.

“I’m not from California!” Rock defends.

Like Claire, Raymond is. His plan to drive to another state to get married to the person of his choice was probably learned from other Filipinos who did the same throughout his teens and twenties.

“I don’t know the history of your dumb laws from however many years ago,” Rock continues. “They don’t really care about Filipinos in the Midwest.”

“Mostly because y’all aren’t out there yet,” Archie cracks. “Give it time.”

“Anyone can get married in Illinois now. Well, I mean, not anyone…” Rock deflates and steals a sad look in Archie’s direction. “That’s not right. They shouldn’t get to decide if your marriage gets to exist or not.”

“Maybe the next case will be more favorable,” Claire says optimistically.

Their legal hopes in California are currently pinned on a Mexican-American woman the case is named for and her black fiancé. It doesn’t seem likely. If anything, anti-miscegenation laws across the country seem to be getting more expansive in recent decades, not less, as more groups get officially added to the “do not intermarry” list and folks like Raymond’s parents who existed in a gray area suddenly have their marriages declared illegal.

Camille shifts the fantasy to something more within their control. They’re professional daydreamers: their way of fighting for a better world is to let their audience picture it the way they do. “No matter what the laws are, we can always throw a party. Put on fancy clothes.” She throws a glance at Raymond and adds, “ _Hypothetically._ We know good costumers who could help us out.”

“We do,” Raymond agrees.

“Once one of us asks.” Camille feigns exasperation for their audience. As if they don’t already know that they’re it for each other. As if they haven’t already agreed in all their talking around the topic that it’s what they both want.

“Yeah. One of us should do that.” Their fingers twine together. Raymond brings the back of her hand to his lips.

Their friends seize Camille’s new, more hopeful direction for their conversation with excited suggestions for a wedding party: they can get married on the lot; they can pick the prettiest backdrop and pretend they’re anywhere in the world without having to drive for days on end, and all of their friends will be able to come; they can forget the license entirely and have the ceremony without the rights, or figure out the license and how to get it from somewhere else separately from the social aspect. There are options that don’t depend on their home state doing right by them.

Camille can almost lie to herself and say that it’ll be enough. She’s not one to settle, though. There’s inheritance so their life isn’t further torn apart when one of them dies. There’s acknowledgement of any children they might want to have. There’s being treated with enough dignity to make choices for herself about who is family to her. A party’s nice but can’t replace rights. She’s not sure she wants one without the other.

She looks at Raymond – smiling at all the suggestions but not entirely sold either – and knows that’s all there is holding her back from marry him right now.

* * *

They’re filming _Dreamland_ on an Ace Studios lot _–_ starting in early morning before the papers are even out – when Archie brings in the news. He gestures silently for Raymond’s attention toward the newspaper he’s holding while the camera is still rolling. October 1, 1948 - California is the first state in the 20th century to strike down an anti-miscegenation law.

Archie holds Raymond by the shoulders and trying not to shake him with the force of his excitement as they read every word side by side. A slow, soft smile grows the more Raymond reads. Perez v Sharp. Perez wins. The entire civil code barring interracial marriage is being thrown out in favor of people being able to marry the person of one’s choice. While they had their fight, she had hers.

Maybe this is just the beginning of progress that will be made. Maybe California will start something across the country. Maybe they can take this momentum and even nudge public opinion by showing what the world could be.

Rock and Jack stop themselves mid-scene when they realize they’ve lost their director’s interest. “Um, Raymond?”

“Cut!” Raymond yells belatedly.

“Oh my fucking god you’re getting married!” Archie almost knocks Raymond over with the force of his hug now that he’s allowed to make noise.

Rock and Jack come running over. They start hollering excitedly on Raymond’s behalf too.

Raymond should be telling them to get back in their places and yelling “action!” and moving on with the scene. Instead, he calls out that they’re taking a 10-minute break.

“Hey, Jack?” Raymond asks. “Can you find out about the kind of ring Camille will want and how she would like to be proposed to? _Hypothetically_? She’s still in wardrobe.”

“Can I help?” Rock asks. “I want to be involved too.”

Jack claps Rock on the back and then drags him along.

“They’ll give the game away, you know,” Archie says. “I wouldn’t expect a subtle, nuanced performance from them here.”

“We’ve been talking around it for a while anyway. We both knew I’d propose eventually. The only surprise left is legally. Is it foolish to hope this’ll stick? There was an amendment within three days last time.”

“They threw the whole damn thing out. There’s nothing left to amend,” Archie says. “Besides, I think you’d be more foolish to not make your plans. You’ve got to have your dreams. You’re not the man I know without them.”

Camille watches the scene unfold from the sidelines with Claire nudging her excitedly even as they try to keep quiet on the set. Rock and Jack don’t have to go as far as they think they do to find her. They don’t even have to step outside of the lot. They skid to a stop from a run they’ve barely broken into.

“Hey Camille! Hey, um…” Rock looks to Jack for help.

“You like jewelry, right?”

“Not asking for any particular reason.”

“Nope.”

“But if you were to be offered some…”

“Would you excuse me?” Camille doesn’t wait for an answer. She steps past them toward Raymond.

“Um, Raymond?” Rock calls again. “I think she figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Camille asks innocently as she approaches, probably more convincingly than Rock and Jack were. They trail behind her looking guilty and pleased. Archie cracks up into Raymond’s shoulder.

Camille means to seem serious about it but she can’t stop grinning as she pushes Raymond into his director’s chair. He falls backwards willingly. He looks up with wide eyes, taking both of her hands in his, and it’s so close to how Camille imagines he would look if he were one knee ready to ask the question they’ve danced around. He’s too far away from her that way, though. She’s not about to kneel either, and not only because her dress for the day is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She sits sideways in his lap. His arms wrap around her, holding her steady.

“So I guess you heard…”

Camille takes a deep breath. She’s waiting too long to wait more, and she’s learned to ask for what she wants herself. “Do you want to get rid of the hypothetical?”

Raymond nods feverishly. He swallows. “You?”

“Yeah. I do.”

The set erupts into cheers. Raymond smiles into Camille’s shoulder, completely overwhelmed, before remembering they should kiss. After so long, it’s all so much. They’ll never know for certain what would have been if what they wanted were possible sooner. But Camille has had a banner year in realizing her dreams.

Raymond holds Camille tight and calls for everyone to get in their places again. He’s not paying attention to anyone else, though. “I’m really going to love being married to you,” he murmurs.

“You think it’ll feel any different?” She does, even though it’s hard to say why when they already have their lives so intertwined.

“Uh, yeah. For one, I don’t think I’ll be capable of shutting up about how amazing _my wife_ is.”

There’s something like longing in Archie’s eyes as everyone settles in. Raymond turns to the chair beside his that’s always saved for Archie. “The case went our way by defining the right to marry as being able to marry _the person of one’s choice_. That’s an open door.”

Archie’s eyes are on Rock when he say, “I like the sound of that.”

It seems more possible than it did just the day before. Until then, they have movies about what could be to make and minds to change.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Perez v Sharp was indeed the basis for the ruling allowing same-sex marriage in California in 2008. While I want to be careful not to give credit to fictional characters that belongs to real live badass people, I hope marriage equality comes sooner for them. 
> 
> Please share this with your online friends if you liked it! Kudos and comments are also nice!


End file.
